Renegade
by LosTruth
Summary: The exiled Prince who was framed by an unknown enemy seeks to return to his former power and glory. A servant who was wrongly accused of seducing the wife of his former employer. A fighter who was banned from the arena because of almost killing one of the onlookers. A doctor whose trust had been used against him. A ex-Knight who chose food over his kingdom. [FemaleKurokoxAkashi]GoM
1. Prologue

**Author's Note**: I have completely fallen into the fandom. It started with a single FemKuroxAkashi fanfic and I knew I was a goner. Once I was introduced into it, I was completely hooked. Whoever thought this pairing up – it was wonderful, I give you the applause.

**Title**: Renegade

**Summary**: The exiled Prince who was framed by an unknown enemy seeks to return to his former power and glory. A servant who was wrongly accused of seducing the wife of his former employer. A fighter who was banned from the arena because of almost killing one of the onlookers. A doctor whose trust had been used against him. A ex-Knight who chose food over his kingdom. Lastly, the young woman who was being hunted down by every kingdom for all the secrets she kept.

**Rating**: T

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the characters in Kuroko no Basuke – and as much as I obsess over Akashi, I can never claim to own him. (But I CAN fangirl him to my heart's content) :D

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

**PROLOGUE**

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

_Hanging from the ceiling was a young woman with pale blue hair dyed with the color red. She was turned away from his direction but he could plainly see that on her back were fresh wounds bleeding – seeping into the pure white dress she was clothed in. On the floor lay the spiked whip which had caused such injuries and beside it, the man he had just killed._

_Staring at the sight before him, he would have thought it sublimely beautiful – how the blood trickled down her pale flesh and dripped onto the pool of blood that formed below her – if only the scent of iron wasn't so tangible in the air, stirring a lot of unwanted memories._

"_What the hell were they doing to her?" an outraged voice asked from behind him._

_He stared at her body for a second longer before he decided to approach her._

"_Torture most likely," he answered logically, "If they were mere thugs who only wanted a little game, they would have left her after raping her." He skilfully maneuvered around the pool of blood to a spot where he could clearly see her face._

_Her head was bowed and strands of her long waist length hair obstructed his view. _

"_Are you still alive, woman?"_

_He addressed her. If he was not wrong, which was usually a given, she could still hear them even if she was only half conscious. After another beat of silence, he stepped into the pool of blood and reached out, pushing aside strands of her hair to get a better look._

"_Can't we just help her down already?" an uneasy voice asked from where he had stood moments before._

"_Not yet. I've yet to reach a decision." He replied firmly._

"_On what?" a deeper, slightly more annoyed voice asked._

_Just as he was about to reply, a soft voice murmured something incoherent to him. He move half a step closer to young woman._

"_What did you say?" he whispered loud enough for her to hear._

"_Please..."_

_He waited a beat. _

"_Please kill me."_

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

The pub was bursting with sounds of merriment and bellows of laughter coming from all of the tables. There were people dancing atop the elevated platform and by the bartender, people were noisily chattering as they waited for their drinks at the counter. The music was blaringly loud, accompanying the clinks of mugs of beer, as well as the creaking of tables and chairs alike.

Amongst all of the raucous tables was one table in the very corner of the room occupied by five individuals. They were chatting quite animatedly, except for one person who was merely quietly sipping his drink.

"Don't they have any women here?" a man with dark skin and dark blue hair asked before taking a swig of his beer.

"There are waitresses who have been looking over here for quite some time now." The blonde beside him responded as he finished his meal. He made a purposeful glance in the direction of the said ladies by the counter who giggled once they caught his eye. "I can invite them over to our table." He suggested.

"I don't have any patience for listening to girls' pointless chatter," Another man with dark green hair said as he finished his meal.

The blonde gave a sigh, "At this rate you'll never be able to find a wife, Harlequin."

The one called Harlequin adjusted his spectacles as he replied. "I don't want to hear that from someone who flirts without discrimination. I feel sorry for the woman who will be called _your_ wife."

Before the blonde could retort, the dark-skinned man spoke.

"The one to the right has a very plentiful bosom. It's exactly to my tastes." The blue-haired male had his eyes focused on the said girl. Noticing his gaze, the girl batted her eyelashes seductively.

He turned back to the blonde, "I call dibs, Maize." he said with a meaningful look at the blonde. The blonde raised both his hands in front of him as a sign of surrender. "I wasn't planning on entertaining all of them anyway." He turned to the purple haired giant seated opposite him that was wholly focused on his food.

"Does any of them catch your eye, Thistle?" The purple haired man glanced away from his dessert to briefly assess all of the girls. His eyes paused on the girl between the two other girls who seemed to be eating a strange candy-like object. Seeming to notice where his attention was directed, Maize took persuasive action.

"If we go over to talk to them, you could ask her about what she's eating."

Thistle stared at the candy in the young lady's hand, then at his own food, then his gaze finally landed on the candy once more. "Alright. I'll go," he acquiesced and both Maize and the blue-haired man smiled.

Harlequin frowned at the exchange. "Don't let yourself be persuaded using food." He scolded Thistle who ignored him. Harlequin turned to their red-haired companion who had remained silent all the while, diligently finishing his meal with distinguished grace.

"You should say something to them as well, Carmine."

The one called Carmine quietly set down his spoon and fork beside his clean plate. "Thistle, Maize, Zaffre," he called the attention of the three who were to take part in this expedition. The three of them turned toward him with expectant faces, as if they already knew what he would say.

"I have no scruple with leaving you to do what you wish. Do not forget that we have planned for tomorrow. Rest your body and accumulate enough energy. I won't forgive any slip-ups because of the excuse that you were tired." His voice was steady and full of the authority you would expect from their leader.

Maize and Thistle nodded while Zaffre gave a noncommittal shrug in reply. "I can't promise that I won't bring her to my room, though." Zaffre added with another look at the girl with a full bosom. This time she played with her hair invitingly.

"I advise you to refrain from that tonight," Carmine said calmly. "You may entertain as many women as you want if we are successful tomorrow. Settle with a little skinship in the mean time."

Zaffre clucked his tongue, obviously dissatisfied. However, everyone at the table knew he would do exactly as Carmine had said.

"And the probability of failure is?" Zaffre asked, despite knowing what Carmine would answer.

"Zero," he answered confidently, "We will achieve victory." There was no hesitation in his voice when he had uttered those words.

From travelling together with this person, everyone at the table knew that if Carmine proclaimed something, it was always true. Not once had he ever failed at doing anything. Time and time again, he had proven that assumption to be true. That was the reason why it had become a unanimous decision for them to appoint him as the leader of their group.

"You may go," he had granted the three of them with his permission and they had decidedly risen from their seats, Thistle's however a little less enthusiastic.

They strode towards the counter where the ladies had been eyeing their table and made small chat with the ladies. Harlequin heaved a sigh when they were far from ear shot.

"They're incorrigible."

He turned to Carmine, a question on his mouth. But before he could utter it, Carmine had easily provided the answer.

"I've already given them a warning. They're not stupid enough to not pay heed to reason. I have no intention of lording over their every move. I merely aim to provide a voice of reason when necessary."

"But –" Harlequin began to protest but Carmine swiftly cut him off.

"We are all equals, Harlequin. Not one of us is better than the other. Don't forget that when we're on the field. I need all of your skills for my plan to succeed." Carmine rose from his seat and gestured for a waitress nearby that he was finished eating.

"Are you headed back?"

"No. I'm going for a walk to prepare my body for sleep."

He stepped out of the noisy inn onto the dirt road. This village was more populated than the previous village they had lodged at. However, it was not populated enough for people to be wandering outside at night. On the road he was walking, he did not encounter any other person. It was only he and the quarter moon that shone above him.

The moonlight seeped through the leaves of the trees that lined the road and made patterns on the even ground. It was almost as if he was following a trail of some sort, being led to who knows were by the moon. He stopped after a few steps, when the noise from the inn finally faded. Carmine heard a few dogs barking in the distance from the villagers' houses, but other than that it was quiet.

The sort of quiet where he liked to think. He raised his left hand and pulled off the glove he wore. He unwound the bandage that was wrapped around his palm. In a patch of moonlight in front of him, he let the light reveal the insignia that had been burned onto the back of his hand.

The brand of a traitor. The same brand was used for a criminal, a heretic, a rebel – bearing this brand from his kingdom meant he was on the same level as filth and common trash that could easily be disposed.

"Not one of us is better than the other." He repeated what he had told Harlequin just moments before.

As long as he had this brand, he could not even claim his true name nor could he utter it. He stared at it for a few moments longer before he rewound the bandage and once again covered it with his glove.

"I will not fail a second time." He uttered decisively, clenching his left hand.

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

**Endnote:** Finally. I have finally achieved a real prologue in all these years of writing fan fiction. Anyway, please leave a review so I'll know if I actually should continue this fic or just drop it. This is really just a tester chapter because this plot bunny did _not_ want to leave me alone since I got hooked on AkaKuro.

Few more notes for the confused:

Akashi – **Carmine**

Midorima – **Harlequin**

Kise – **Maize**

Aomine – **Zaffre**

Murasakibara – **Thistle**

Note: The reason why they are called as such will be revealed later and if you can't see the connection between the names, try searching them on Google. It will be easy to understand then.

Ja ne! Don't forget to leave a review! :)


	2. Ciel

**Author's Note**: Well – I told myself that if at least 10 people would follow my story I would continue it and it actually came true. :) This is chapter is for those 10 people who were curious enough to want to know how this story would progress. I hope to live up to your expectations. :D

**Title**: Renegade

**Rating**: T

**Disclaimer**: I obsess over Akashi and I love all of the GoM but I do not own them. They belong to the wonderful Fujimaki-sensei. The plot twists and storyline is mine however, brought to life by my favourite characters.

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

**Chapter 1** _Ciel_

The four of them were standing in the hallway of a narrow corridor, not talking – not even looking directly at each other. Zaffre and Maize were standing on both sides of one of the windows near Harlequin's room. Zaffre was staring out the window lazily through the corner of his eye while Maize was fiddling with the buckles on his clothes, looking a tad uneasy. Thistle, as usual, was contentedly eating some sort of strange candy, one which they had recognized as the candy one of the ladies from the other night had been eating. Carmine looked pensive; he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his eyes closed.

There was no conversation – they did not feel the need to converse as they were only waiting for their companion to emerge from his quarters with his assessment. Talking would follow depending on what he would tell them.

The four of them had been like this for the past hour and a half. Harlequin had told them that he would need at least that much time before he would reappear. Until then, they were to wait here and keep out of sight.

Quite a sight they would be if someone decided to enter the floor of the inn they had occupied and reserved. They were all carrying the distinct scent of blood which emanated from their clothes, as well as their sheathed weapons. Though the blood was inconspicuous on their dark clothes, the smell was not as easy to mask. It was a good thing that they had rented out the highest floor; with the help of a little rope they were able to sneak back into the inn undetected.

Just as the sound of a locked clicked, Carmine pulled himself away from the wall and took a step closer to the door. It swung open and revealed a certain green-head. He was wiping his hands with a light green cloth that had noticeable stains of red. He stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him. The white coat he wore and the sureness of his movements clearly spoke of his experience.

"She won't die," he announced decisively. "I've dressed all of her wounds but she lost quite a bit of blood. She will most likely regain consciousness after two or three days. Her body needs to regenerate all of the blood she lost."

Maize was the first one to show a reaction. He let out a relieved sigh. "She won't die," he repeated audibly. "That's great."

The other three however were paying more attention to the response of their leader regarding the news. Carmine was aware that they were waiting for his decision on the matter. There was really no need for him to delay it any longer – he had already decided even before they had returned to the inn.

"Can she be moved in her current condition?" he questioned in his ever reasonable tone of voice. To the four of them watching him intently, this was as much a question as it was an answer to their unspoken question.

_Were they taking her with them?_

Carmine's question was already an affirmation.

"As long as we don't jostle her too much," Harlequin responded professionally. "There's still a possibility of her back wounds reopening if she's moved too much. I don't know how we'll be able to strap her to a horse however." He added dubiously, glancing back at the room behind him briefly.

"But we don't have two of three days to spare. If we stay any longer..." Maize's voice trailed off. It was obvious that he was not very fond of the idea of bringing an unconscious and injured female with them. Especially when there was a higher chance for trouble and danger if she was with them.

"No. We don't," Carmine agreed with Maize's statement. "We will leave tomorrow at dawn."

"Can't we just leave her? It sounds like too much of a hassle to take her with us, Car-chin." Thistle shared the same opinion as Maize. He had a particular disinterest in troublesome things. It was Carmine's decision to call but Maize and Thistle were not fully convinced.

Zaffre had kept his eyes on Carmine since Harlequin had broken the news and he had remained silent. When Carmine looked at him for his opinion on the matter, he spoke.

"Is she necessary?" Zaffre posed Carmine this question.

Carmine gave him a slight nod. "She is." With that single gesture, Zaffre seemed inclined to dispose whatever complaint he could have raised.

When it came down to it, it was that lone fact that really mattered. If she was necessary for their future plans. The five of them were only together because of Carmine – because of what Carmine had told each of them individually when he had first appeared in each of their lives. They were accomplices and if Carmine had deemed her to be necessary, Zaffre would accept his decision.

Zaffre's agreement seemed to have convinced the other two as well. Seeing someone as unconcerned as Zaffre agree to it must have shaken off whatever doubts and complaints they had. Instead, they wanted to know Carmine's next plan.

"We could strap her to you, Carmine." Harlequin suggested. Harlequin was the only one who had accepted Carmine's decision without question. He had been thinking of a solution to their dilemma of her transportation from the moment Carmine had given his decision.

She could not ride a horse on her own because she was still unconscious and they couldn't just strap her onto a horse and lead the horse because it would just reopen her wounds.

Carmine directed his attention to Harlequin.

"Would that be alright?" he confirmed. His tone implied that he seemed to have reached the same conclusion even before Harlequin had suggested it.

Harlequin pondered for a minute, "You're the best rider among all of us." He pointed out, "Zaffre and Maize always end up competing, pacing much too fast. Thistle is careless when he rides, going through the shortest path no matter how rough it is. I'm not very fond of horses themselves and having another person strapped to me would hinder me from concentrating on my riding."

"Riding with you would be safest for her in her condition," he said finally. The others didn't seem to disagree with his assessment and Carmine in particular did not seem against it.

"Alright." That signalled the end of the discussion. "All of you are free to do whatever you want for the rest of the night. Don't forget your usual restocking assignments before we leave. Get the money you need from Maize. Don't be too wasteful when buying. I'll check up on all of you tonight. It's the usual punishment if you forget." Carmine's instructions were always short, concise and easy to remember. He always made it sound like he was just reminding them instead of actually ordering them. If Carmine was the one ordering them, they didn't have that much trouble complying.

Harlequin pulled off his white robe and slung it over his forearm. "I'll go reserve another room with the proprietess."

"No need," Carmine's words stopped him midstride. "You can take my room. I will stay in this room."

The other four were surprised. "There is only one bed," Harlequin stated the obvious, partly due to surprise.

"I am aware," Carmine replied promptly.

"There's no need for you to stand watch over her, Carmine." Harlequin tried once again to venture a guess as to their leader's intentions. Harlequin wasn't the only one who seemed bothered by the idea of their leader being the only one not sleeping in his own bed. The other three looked like they were trying to think of an alternative.

"It is no matter. I have no problems sleeping on the floor or just sitting down." He revealed what they wanted to figure out the most. It wasn't as if Carmine did not understand their sentiments and why they were reacting like this, but he felt the need to reassure them. "I feel partly responsible for adding a temporary burden over all of us with my decision. The least I can do it tend to her needs."

"She might not need anything at all, Carmine," Harlequin said sensibly.

"Either way, I feel uneasy leaving an injured person alone." He answered in a tone that denied any other comment.

They did not think he would inconvenience himself like this for a mere girl. However, she wasn't _just_ a girl. Carmine knew that much and had told them just as much – but they likely did not know the extent of her importance. Even he didn't know the extent of it and he wanted to keep it that way for a little longer until he discovered it.

In the face of Carmine's ready obliging, the others had no more say in the matter; Harlequin, who had the best chance of mending this situation, could not persuade Carmine otherwise. So they were left with no choice but to let him do as he pleased. They each made their way to their own rooms one by one.

"Maize," Carmine called the attention of the blonde who was about to head back to his room. Maize turned back with a slightly curious expression.

"I have a request of you."

He told his request in a voice that only Maize would hear and once he had finished speaking, Maize's eyes lit up eagerly.

"Of course," he said pleasantly, "I'll find what I can."

"I'll leave that matter to you then." Carmine responded with a rare smile.

Maize turned and made his way toward his own quarters. Soon, the hallway was deserted and Carmine was the only one left. He turned to the wooden door and quietly entered the room.

The light filtered into the room through a window on the opposite side of the bed. The room was barren; it only had a bed, a dinky small square table and a wooden chair. Carmine lifted the chair with one hand, and pulled it to a spot beside the bed.

He sat himself elegantly and stared down at the pale figure who occupied his supposed bed. The young woman before him was pale, deathly pale. Carmine reached out and let his hand hover over her nose. When he felt the brush of her shallow breaths against his palm, he pulled it back. She may have looked dead, but the air that had touched his hand proved otherwise.

He examined the planes of her face. Her features were soft and delicate. She had long and wispy pale blue hair cut shorter only in the area of her forehead. Her eyelashes were the same color as her hair but Carmine had yet to see the color of her eyes. She had a small nose and coral colored lips. If he had to give her a definite description, he would have said that she was quite beautiful.

But she was the same person who had asked him to kill her.

What was she thinking when those words had left her lips? She had likely already been half-dead when they had found her. But she asked for death like a thirsty man would ask for water. Carmine could still her voice in his head.

_Please kill me..._

It was soft... and haunting at the same time.

He wanted to know.

He wanted to find out.

She was like them. She was one of them. He had seen the brand in the very middle of her chest. The same brand that he carried – the same brand that all five of them carried.

He had remained watching over the injured girl the whole day. She had not stirred in the slightest. Even when the last bits of sunlight had faded, Carmine had not left the room either. Harlequin had come by in the afternoon to drop off Carmine's possessions. For the whole day, Carmine had the privilege of leisure reading in perfect silence.

He had pondered over the extent of her importance when they had rescued her and earlier in the day as well. Carmine did not expect it to be revealed to him so suddenly and quite forcefully for that matter.

It was in the middle of the night however, when the answer quietly crept up on him. Carmine was a light sleeper – so he definitely sensed the presence of another person inside the room later into the night. It was not one of his companions, that much Carmine was sure. If it were, they would have knocked on the door rather than enter stealthily through the window.

He could also tell that the intruder was skilled. From his perfectly mute movements to his perfectly paced breathing. But he was not good enough to slip past Carmine's defences that easily. When the intruder had taken a step into his range, Carmine had pulled three small daggers which had been strapped to his thigh, and flung them with precision and force.

The knife he had aimed at the intruders head had been parried with a short blade but the other two had hit their mark. One knife sunk into the middle of his chest while the other struck his throat cleanly.

There was a distinct thud as the body hit the floor. Carmine stood up and unsheathed his blade. He stood between the window and the bed. There were more coming; just as he positioned himself, four more of them entered the room through the open window. They were armed with light and thin rapier like blades.

"All of you will die here tonight." One of them, the one to the very left announced in a slightly muffled voice.

Carmine raised his blade and took an attacking stance.

"I beg to differ," Carmine responded coolly.

One of the assassins took a step forward, into Carmine's range – and was immediately cut down by Carmine's blade. They had not even seen him move. In the next second he was repositioned in the exact same spot, this time with blood on his weapon and on his clothes.

"Resistance is futile," said another one. "All of the people of this village will die as well."

"Then I will simply have to eliminate all of you before you can do any real damage," Carmine said carelessly.

And with that, he went on the offensive. He killed the other three in one go and turned to briefly make a series of loud knocks on the door wall opposite the window. It was Harlequin's room and Carmine knew he was would surely awaken. There was a single knock in response after half a minute. Carmine used the usual code they memorized when they didn't feel the need to talk to one another.

Enemy attack.

Gather others.

Outside.

With his orders relayed, Carmine had to get started with the hunt. He jumped out of the window and landed on the balls of his feet by the side of the inn. The shock from the jump only momentarily immobilized him; it was only three floors after all. He was greeted by the sound of hissing metal – the sound of multiple swords being unsheathed. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.

He would have to get a little serious; he didn't want anyone to die accidentally. He closed both of his eyes and in the next second felt something shift in his left eye. After counting to three, the hunt began.

* * *

The next hour and a half was a little vague. Carmine could only clearly remember the feeling of his blade cutting through flesh, the feeling of warm blood splattering onto his clothes and his exposed flesh, and the sound of numerous hearts stopping.

He had only stopped moving when he felt no killing intent directed at him anymore. "Is that all of them?" he heard Maize ask.

Carmine swung his blade from left to right, trying to get some bits of flesh and blood off of it. He looked toward the forest where most of them had come from and narrowed his eyes. There was still one left – and he was merely watching from the shadows. Carmine knew that if he tried to chase after them, they could easily escape. Instead he pointed his hilt in a specific direction and soon after 5 consecutive arrows shot there from behind him.

There was a faint gasp and the sound of some of the arrows hitting something else, trees probably. Carmine stared, feeling the presence slowly fade away.

"That was the last of them," Carmine announced as he turned to look at them. All of them finally relaxed from their rigid postures.

"I'm tired," Zaffre said in an irritated tone. He pulled off his bloody gauntlets and tucked them under his right arm.

Thistle was leaning on the hilt of his great sword. "I wanted to sleep some more. I was having a good dream."

Harlequin was preoccupied picking up some arrows and returning it to his quiver. He didn't bother commenting as he was focused on his task.

"Your dream," Zaffre began, "...was probably about food, right?"

"Eh. How did you know, Zaf-chin?" Thistle answered with mild surprise in a lazy drawl.

"It's not hard to guess," Zaffre replied lazily, "And don't call me Zaf-chin. It's annoying and confusing. It's fine if it's with Harlequin."

"Harle-chin?" Thistle responded in a curious tone. "What about him?"

"I refuse to take part in this silly conversation," said Harlequin flatly as he pulled out an arrow from another dead body. "And I refuse to be addressed as something as stupid as Harle-chin." He added with distaste as he dropped it into his quiver.

"Would you look at that, we're on time," Maize piped up on a more positive note. He pointed to the sky with his rapier which he had wiped clean of most of the blood using the intruders' clothes. Carmine glanced at the sky that was slowly lighting up, going from black to a dark purplish blue.

He looked at each one in turn and made another decision. They were a blood-spattered mess and it was obvious what their next course of action would be.

"We're heading out," Carmine said audibly, sheathing his sword and making his way toward the inn. Carmine need not remind them of their duties.

He returned to his room discreetly, careful not to leave any bloody marks on the floor or on the wall. He turned on the light, pulled off his upper clothes and pulled out a small towel from his belongings. He poured water from his jug onto the towel and began wiping the blood off his face and other parts of his flesh that were stained red.

It was only a slight creak but that made him wholly aware of the set of eyes that were on him. He sighed and pulled the sword from his sheath. He turned, ready for another fight – but what greeted him was the sight of bright sky colored eyes looking at him warily.

"How long have you been awake?" he questioned her in a composed tone.

"The smell of blood," she said softly, "...was too strong."

It was so soft he almost couldn't hear it. He didn't expect her to awaken so suddenly, but then again she had a point. Even he could not ignore the tangible scent of blood whether he was awake or asleep.

Carmine moved closer to her and stood a meter away from the foot of the bed. It was a safe distance – one where he thought she would feel more at ease.

He only stared her in silence. Her eyes were vacant and dazed but they still held that semblance of intelligence. Her eyes were unique; they were so light that they were almost white. Neither of them made a sound. They only appraised each other wordlessly. What broke their eye contact was the sound of a light knock on the door.

Carmine quickly finished what he had been doing beforehand, and then he proceeded to open the door.

It was Maize.

"Here are the items you requested." He held out a small wrapped package and Carmine took it graciously. "Do you need any help?" he asked but Carmine shook his head.

"She's conscious."

Maize's eyes widened delightedly before he controlled himself and nodded. "I'll see if the others need any help." He gave a slight bow before he turned and left. He closed the door and turned back to the young woman who was still watching him intently. He approached her once more; she looked pointedly at the package in his hand.

"We're leaving this village," he explained calmly.

"I see..." was all she answered in reply. She didn't fully understand, it seemed.

Carmine placed the package by her side and said, "Get changed. We're leaving this village." He elaborated to help her understand his intentions.

Her expression changed from one of indifference to one of slight confusion. She seemed to have understood that the '_we'_ he mentioned before included her.

"Why?" She asked in that ever so soft voice.

"Because it's what we decided." He replied simply.

"I can't." There was steel in that answer. Carmine was slightly surprised. "Just leave me here. Please."

There it was again. That word. _Please_. Everyone seemed to think that that word would let anyone do what you wanted. Carmine disliked that word – especially when it was used against him in situations like these.

_Please kill me_.

"I'm sorry but at the moment, you don't have a choice." He answered in a composed tone despite his thoughts.

"I do. I choose to stay here." She argued back.

"What can you do in your condition?" he asked purposely, "You cannot even stand on your own."

"I –" she began to say but Carmine was not finished.

"The scent of blood that woke you up – it was the blood of people that were planning to kill the villagers to get you. Can you, in this state, prevent them from killing others because of their search for you?" his voice was calm but direct. He did not usually sugar coat his words when he wanted give a point across.

The pale woman was silenced and her expression darkened slightly. "The one chasing after you is a man called the Maverick." He stated decisively and he watched her eyes widen a fraction.

Her eyes conveyed her question easily enough.

_How did you know?_

"I saw the insignia on their weapons. It's not something you forget once you see."

She shook her head once, "It's generally not something one is left alive to speak or know about." She gave him an apprehensive look.

Carmine responded with a smile. "I know," he said nonchalantly. She was wise not to trust him immediately; it showed she wasn't just a weak woman.

"I suppose I can give you a choice," he added thoughtfully. "It's either you come with us for the mean time or we leave you here to defend a whole village by yourself. It's up to you to lead the danger that follows you."

She gave him a look that said, _What about you?_

He gestured to his body, "I am still alive, aren't I? I won't die and neither will my companions." He had uttered the words with complete confidence and assurance.

"Now choose. We don't have much time. Soon the village will awaken and they will find all the corpses that we left outside. Do you want to have to answer to that?" He ordered with finality. He was not going to pursue this conversation any further without receiving an answer.

"Please turn around while I get changed."

Carmine gave a satisfied smile and turned around to pack all of his belongings and finish changing.

He heard the rustling of clothes and the creaking of the bed as she moved behind him. He could hear her gasps of pain leaking through her mouth. He knew she was definitely in pain and he felt that she did not want to ask him for help in this situation. So he kept quiet and finished changing.

"I'm finished." She announced a tad breathlessly and Carmine turned to look at her. She was fully dressed in the clothes that Maize had picked out upon Carmine's request. They fitted her quite well; she was geared for riding and running. He noted how willowy her figure was as well as her long slender neck. He turned back and rummaged through his belongings. When he found what he was looking for, he drew closer to her and held it out.

She stared at the bundle of cloth passively, a glimmer of intrigue in her clear orbs. She took it into her hands cautiously.

"You can wear it over your clothes." Carmine supplied as he picked up his things. He saw the young woman gingerly pulled on the black robe he had given her in the corner of his eye. It was one of his extras, and he thought it would be better if she looked less vulnerable in front of his companions.

Just then, a knock sounded on the door and Carmine didn't need to know who it was. It was time.

He stood in front of her, carrying his things.

"Carmine," he said, holding out his hand. "That is how my companions address me."

"I'm..." she paused and bit the bottom of her lip unsurely. She was hesitating on whether or not to reveal her name. Carmine pulled back his hand and looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Liquorice," he spoke in a gentle tone.

"I'm sorry?"

"I don't need to know your real name. From now on I will call you Liquorice. Understood?" she only stared at him for a moment before she nodded once.

He gave a small smile and made his way towards the door. "Come on," he said, "You're riding with me."

* * *

She felt uncomfortable. Four colourful gazes were focused on her as they sat around campfire. The only pair she was at ease looking at was looking at the raging flame instead. The fire gave his eyes an orangey tinge. Like his eyes were on fire; it was quite a sight. She could almost forget the four other sets of eyes that were on her. Almost.

"She's called Liquorice?" Maize asked Carmine and he merely nodded. Liquorice wanted very much to fade into the background. She was seated beside Carmine, to his left, and on her left was a blonde who was smiling at her.

"I'm Maize," he said cheerfully. "The tall guy with the purple hair is Thistle, the mocha skinned guy is Zaffre and the one with the spectacles is Harlequin. Our leader is Carmine, over there." He pointed to the red-head seated beside her. _(*AN: I decided not to add the –chi part into the sentence anymore so we can just assume that every time Kise/Maize talks to them, he always adds –chi to their names.)_

"...chi?" she repeated, noticing the extra he seemed to be adding onto their names.

"I add it to the names of the people I like," he explained. "Would it be alright if I added it to your name as well?"

"I don't remember you asking our permission when you started adding that to our names, Maize." Zaffre pointed out in a deep rumbling voice.

"Girls are always an exception," he said happily with another smile.

"I'd rather you not, though." She asserted, looking at Maize. _Liquorice_ had been a name that Carmine had given her. It felt strange changing it around and adding unnecessary things when it wasn't even her true name.

"Oh?" Maize's eyebrows rose slightly but his smile had not wavered, "that's too bad." He gave a shrug that Liquorice interpreted as 'it can't be helped'.

"Liquo-chin," the purple haired man, Thistle murmured unfalteringly. He seemed to have already decided what he would call her. Liquorice could tell that he was a harder person to persuade.

A cold gust of wind blew and she felt herself shiver slightly. She pulled the cloak Carmine had lent her tighter around her body. Her body felt sore and there was a dull throb all over her back from her injuries. She had ridden on the same horse as Carmine, sitting in behind him. She couldn't hold on to anything else except Carmine's cloak. Much to her own chagrin, she had even inadvertently fallen asleep and had almost fallen off his horse. He had safely pulled her back upright and requested her to hold on more securely to him. She had decided that she wouldn't sleep and had stayed awake the whole time, battling her desire to sleep.

But now that she was seated on the slightly damp grass and huddled near a warm fire, she felt her fatigue kicking into her system. She wanted very badly to just lie down and close her eyes but the attention was still directed at her.

"Are you alright?" the man Maize had introduced as Harlequin was looking at her carefully, as if he was trying to gauge something. "You look a little pale. I suggest you take a good rest now. We still have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow." His tone was businesslike and no-nonsense. Carmine moved after Harlequin spoke.

He stood up, moved towards his horse and rummaged through his possessions. He pulled out a large piece of cloth from one of his bags and returned to his original position beside her. He held out the cloth towards her with one arm and she took it without thinking.

"Use that and sleep by the tree behind me," He told her, "We'll wake you up when we're getting ready to leave again."

She wanted to say that she wasn't going to sleep if no one else was going to, but Carmine gave her a look that made the words die on her lips. He smiled slightly, as if he perfectly understood what was on her mind.

"Please," he said kindly, looking directly at her for the time since they had camped here.

She found herself nodding, then standing up and making her way to the tree he had pointed out. She wrapped the large cloth around her before she settled by the tree trunk. For some reason, the patch of grass by the base of this tree was thicker than the one they had been sitting; it was easier for Liquorice to find a comfortable position on the ground.

Carmine's shadow was cast over her face. She could make out the outline of his back cleanly from where she was lying down. He had known – there would be no other reason for him to suggest her to sleep in this particular spot. He turned his head slightly and gave her a sideways glance.

"Sleep well," he said audibly.

"Good night, Liquorice." Maize chimed in pleasantly.

"Happy dreams, Liquo-chin." Thistle added.

"Make sure you don't move around too much," said Harlequin.

"Scream if you feel something crawling on you," Zaffre said mixed with a yawn.

"Good night...everyone." she replied softly, not sure if they had heard her.

Her eyes were much too heavy already. She took a deep breath and the scent of peppermint was even more prominent now, coming from both the cloth wrapped around her as well as the cloak. She imagined herself sinking deep into a sea of peppermint and soon her consciousness was gone.

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

Endnote: Now that that's out of the way, let the challenge begin! I hope you can drop a review, leave me a suggestion or anything, even if it's just to correct my grammar. I'd gladly take any kind of input or comment that you have. 'Til next time! :D

Fangirl Note: Gosh I just love Akashi waaaaayyyy too much. I really had a goofy grin the whole time I was typing his parts. Honestly, if I was any girl in Kuroko no Basuke I would definitely fall in love with Akashi. I love both his evil and nice side, it's like I get the best of both worlds in one character. Akashi FTW! Only a female Kuroko is perfect for him. :)))

More important notes:

*_Ciel_ is actually the Latin name used for girls that means _from Heaven _or _heavenly_.

*Kuroko – **Liquorice**

*_Maverick_ – a person who resists authority, control or convention.


	3. Ignis

**Author's Note:** la la la – Akashi makes me too happy. :D Wayyy too much. I hope he makes you happy as well. :) Anyway, to those who reviewed the last chapter, I give you a big thank you. Reviews always give me the drive to try harder and get my butt working. I hope you enjoy the chapter.

**Title:** Renegade

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** I love Akashi and the GoM but I don't own them. I just really really like writing this story about them. :)

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

**Chapter 2** _ Ignis_

Liquorice woke up with her throat feeling parched. She sat up, wincing slightly at the wave of pain that crept up her back. She was slightly disoriented, feeling strange and lost amidst unfamiliar trees and greenery. What did reassure her that she wasn't in some foreign land was the sight of different colored heads within her periphery. She found Maize and Harlequin leaning on opposite sides of one big tree while Zaffre and Thistle were sprawled on the ground snoozing unconcernedly. They were all bundled up in black cloth and their expressions were softer and more relaxed.

Carmine, however, was nowhere to be found. Had he already woken up?

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and tried to determine what time it was from the small light that came from the sky. It was a still a bit too early for them to rise, around 4 in the morning at most. It was dark but she didn't need light to find what she wanted. She closed her eyes and listened more carefully.

She wanted water.

The others had chosen this as a camp site because there was a nearby stream that came from the top of the mountain. She heard it faintly from behind her and carefully lifted herself from the ground. She was used to moving in the dark and it wasn't hard for her to make her way towards that faint rushing of water.

She found what she had been looking for soon enough – both of them, for that matter. Carmine was there by the stream, seated comfortably with a small lamp beside him and doing something she couldn't quite figure out from where she was in the foliage of the forest.

His hands paused after a minute and he turned in the direction where she was standing.

"Liquorice?" Carmine's steady voice floated into the rhythm of flowing water.

How had he known it was her? People almost never sensed her presence, not this obviously, and certainly not this keenly.

Liquorice extricated herself from the shadows she had been hiding in. She felt slightly embarrassed to have been caught watching him from the shadows like that.

He gave her that knowing smile again, that smile that made her feel like she was an open book to him. "Good morning. Are you thirsty?" he asked intentionally.

How?

"Please, take a seat." He gestured to the spot beside him, on the other side of the small light. She drew closer to him and took a seat quietly. He handed her a cupful of water from the jug that he placed on his other side.

She took it gratefully and took small sips from the cup, relieving the dry spell in her throat. She watched his hands with interest. Carmine had pretty fingers, long and slender, but looked like they had a firm grip. She had finally figured out what he had been doing. He was cleaning his sword. His hands were meticulous and careful; they moved across the surface of the blade with practiced ease.

Carmine... was different to the other four. It was in the way he carried himself, his profile, the way and manner he spoke, his subdued expressions and the aura he projected. She liked that he didn't shower her with his attention so completely. Even now, he was only focused on the task at hand – he didn't ask her any questions and just tended to her needs.

She spoke when she was sure her voice would not come out as a croak.

"How did you know?" she asked steadily.

"That it was you?" he continued, his eyes glancing at her briefly.

"That I was even present," she clarified. Carmine leaned forward and let the water run over the surface of the blade. She watched his palm glide over the surface once on both sides before he lifted it out of the water and onto a dark cloth he set in front of him by his legs.

"I could hear you moving from a few meters away," he answered, "Your movement is not quite like the others. It's much too quiet and your presence is weaker compared to most people. I could tell if it was one of the other four just by the sound of their footsteps. It was not hard to pinpoint that it was you."

"Then –" she was about to say the other question on her mind but Carmine gave her a swift answer.

"I knew you were thirsty because the first place you chose to go once you woke up was a water source. I haven't given you your own water jug yet, so you'd have to get it directly from a nearby source," he said logically.

"I still have a lot to learn it seems," she mumbled to herself but Carmine seemed to have heard it, nonetheless.

"You are indeed skilled at hiding your presence," he acknowledged as he was applying some sort of jelly-like substance on his sword. It left the metal with a beautiful sheen when he had applied it evenly. "It may seem arrogant of me to say this, but those types of skills are ineffective against me. I'm very good at sensing another person's presence, no matter how faint it is or how skilled they are."

"Is that how you managed to defeat them?" she knew he would figure out who she was referring to.

"I'm used to fighting, so are the others. We fight to survive all the time," he said in a light tone.

His hands never ceased moving as they conversed. There was another that had resurfaced in her mind this time. One she had been pondering on for quite some time. Now seemed like the best opportunity to voice it.

"Carmine," his name felt strange on her lips. It felt like she needed to address him more respectfully.

"Hmm?" He did not seem bothered, however. To be addressed by someone like her.

"Why...did you save me?"

His hands finished lathering that strange substance on both sides of the blade. He washed his right hand in the flowing stream, then dried them on the dark cloth. He picked up his scabbard with his gloved hand and returned the clean and shiny blade. He was still grasping his sword by the hilt as he responded to her.

"My sword," His grip tightened on the hilt and he wasn't looking at her, "is not something I use for unnecessary killing. It is only for the sake of cutting down my enemies. I don't...take the lives of people on a whim."

"How are you sure I am not your enemy?" she questioned. She saw the corner of his lips raise a bit at her question.

"Because I want you to become our comrade. I decided," he placed the blade in front of him and reached out one of his hands towards her. "When I saw this." his index finger lightly tapped the exact place where he had seen the brand. He pulled back his hand as he let what he said register in Liquorice's mind.

Liquorice felt her face darken and the blood drain from her face. "I'm a traitor and a wanted woman," she said matter-of-factly. There was a whole sentence that was left unsaid in her mind. She wanted to say something more – but she didn't trust Carmine completely. She could not tell him a little bit without having to explain everything in detail. She decided to say nothing else.

"I know," was all Carmine said in reply. He pulled off his left glove and unwound the bandage to reveal his secret. He brought his hand closer to the lamp and closer to her gaze. Liquorice felt her eyes widen.

The black ink of the brand looked even darker in lamp-light. She reached out and brushed her fingers lightly over the back of his hand. The burn was real and authentic, it had healed a long time ago – but it was something that could not be forgotten. Touching it reminded her of the time when they had given it to her as well. Memories of pain, blood and grief.

She raised her head and met Carmine's flaming orbs. Carmine said nothing. His gaze was resilient and unwavering.

He knew.

They both understood the burden of this brand. They only stared at each other, communicating without words. Carmine was the first to break the silence.

"I won't force you, however," he pulled back his hand gently and covered up his mark. "I'm giving you a choice."

He had told her that he wanted her to become a part of their group – but he would not force her.

"It seems the others have woken up," he said, glancing briefly in the direction of the forest where faint noises could be heard, "Let us return."

Carmine packed the materials he had used for cleaning his sword into the dark cloth and bundled them up neatly. He picked up his scabbard and stood up gracefully. Liquorice followed suite and stood up as well, volunteering to carry the jug of water.

He walked into the forest with sure and muted steps. She followed after him, looking at his regal back profile, pondering over the choice he had given her and this person – this person who had seen her mark and had wanted her as a companion, rather than wanting her head.

**-oOo-**

"There is really no need for you to accompany me so, Maize." Liquorice argued as the two of them were walking along the street.

"Carmine asked me to," he replied calmly, strolling leisurely by her side. He towered over her, not as much as Thistle, however, and she was uncomfortable with the attention he was attracting. Maize was smiling at every person they passed and Liquorice deduced that he was probably a naturally friendly person.

"He specifically asked me to 'ensure that all your material needs are met'," Maize repeated the exact words Carmine had said when Liquorice had asked permission to leave the inn to purchase some essentials from the stores in the village.

"But –" she wanted to protest. "It would inconvenience you." She added a little regretfully. Even if it was a request from Carmine, she didn't want to cause unnecessary trouble for him like this. It wasn't as if she had any intention of running away.

Liquorice had been thinking a lot since her chat with Carmine the morning after they had left the previous village. She wanted something else to occupy her mind today and had settled on doing a bit of shopping. Maize had not been incorporated into her plans at all.

Then again, his company fulfilled the primary purpose of distracting herself despite her apprehension.

"Liquorice," he called for her attention.

"Yes?"

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" he asked with a slightly playful tone.

Liquorice glanced at him for a moment before she returned her gaze to line of shops on her right. "Not particularly," she asked vaguely, "I'm still trying to figure you out. I apologize if I seem uneasy around you."

"That's good." She caught the flash of relief that flitted across his expression for a moment.

"I'd like to become good friends with you, Liquorice." He asserted with a smile that might have stolen the heart of an innocent maiden. That sort of line delivered with such a smile was much too sly and Liquorice could only stare at him for a moment.

"Is something the matter?" he asked pleasantly. She was debating whether or not this was a natural action or a premeditated one.

"...it's nothing." She decided not to mention. She needed to observe him a bit more if she wanted to make conclusions about his character.

"That makes me even more curious," Maize complained lightly.

Liquorice turned her gaze away and finally found a store that probably had what she needed. Leading the way, both of them entered the store and Liquorice immediately approached one of the shelves. She picked up one of the smaller water jugs and weighed it in her hand.

"Were you travelling alone before we met you?" Maize asked as he watched her from behind.

"Yes," she answered, picking up a light blue canister. "However, I lost all of my possessions when I was captured."

"Hmm," he moved to stand beside her, "You'll need some rope, at least two bags, a pocket knife," he enumerated, "A set of your own utensils," he picked up all of the items he mentioned as the two of them moved along the shelves. Liquorice didn't have the chance to interrupt – it wasn't as if she didn't know what she needed, but he seemed intent on helping her out so she decided to just let him be.

He glanced back at her, "I suppose we should get a tent for you, but..." his voice trailed off as their eyes met. Liquorice understood the silent sentence that should have followed. He wasn't sure she was going to be travelling with them. She nodded to show that she understood.

"You could just buy it next time."

Maize nodded and skipped over the area with tents and moved on to the next shelf. He plucked specific items here and there as he circuited around the whole store, Liquorice following diligently. He'd ask her things like what color she preferred and whether she preferred this kind of material – she was keeping mental note of tips he was throwing in here and there.

When they had gone around the store twice, there was already a sizeable bundle in Maize's arms. He dropped all of the items in the counter with a wink at the female clerk.

"We'll be taking all of these," he said well-naturedly, earning him another blush from the clerk.

He turned back to address Liquorice. "Is there anything I forgot?"

She shook her head and began to rummage through her pocket. She had been calculating the exact amount of everything as they passed by each shelf, taking note of the prices. She probably had it right, but she was not quite sure; she wasn't exemplary at mental computations, so she might've made a mistake somewhere. She held her money pouch in one hand, ready to pay to everything with her own money.

She watched as the clerk neatly packaged all of the items and handed the receipt to Maize. Just as she was about to ask him the exact amount of her purchase, Maize dropped a money pouch on the counter and swiftly picked up their purchases. "Please keep the change," he said with another one of his charming smiles. His actions left both Liquorice and the store clerk dumbfounded.

Maize didn't miss a beat and made his way out of the store before she had gathered her wits.

When he had made it past the door, she followed after him hastily. When she was outside, she grabbed his sleeve, pulling him to a gentle stop.

"How much was inside that pouch?" she inquired.

He looked at her curiously. "Why?"

"Because I'm going to pay for it with my own money. I need to know how much you gave her." She replied.

"You don't have to pay me back." He replied in a careless tone.

"I have to," she said stubbornly, "I'm not letting you pay for my things."

"And I'm not letting you pay me back. I had every intention of paying for all of your things from the very beginning." He responded in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Please let me pay you." She implored him. She didn't want to owe them any more than she already did.

Maize gave her a level look, "I can't."

She met his gaze directly, "There is a different between I _can't_, and I _won't._" She interjected and Maize let out a chuckle.

"I _can't_ because it was Carmine's order. To pay for your expenses, I mean. But I _won't_ because I _want_ to pay for your expenses."

"I _want_ to pay for it as well. Although it is Carmine's order, I should have the right to pay for myself." She claimed. Maize stared at her for a moment.

"Will you not let it pass this once?" he asked.

"Not until you let me pay you back." She answered resolutely.

"Most women would be thrilled to have a man pay for their purchases." He pointed out with a teasing smile.

"I would be happier if you would let me pay for it myself," Liquorice interjected. Maize produced a different kind of smile; it was a mixture of amusement and exasperation. They only stared at each other for half a minute before Maize let out a small sigh.

"Alright," he said, "Just pay me back with a favour. I'll think about it, you don't need to worry – I'll think of something that's a bit challenging for the sake of your conscience. " He turned around and began walking again.

"I –" she began to say, but Maize completed the sentence for her.

"Gratefully accept your offer, Maize."

She kept pace with him with somewhat difficulty. "We aren't finished. We'll talk about this another time," she said with finality. She would not give in to him so easily.

He gave her that smile again accompanied by a chuckle. "You're quite stubborn. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Yes," she acknowledged, "But you are quite persistent as well, Maize."

"Maybe so," he said with a laugh.

He decided to change the topic now that the matter had been partially resolved. "Is there any other store that piques your interest?"

She gave him a measured look. "You are not coming with me," she said flatly.

"Oh?"

"You'll return to the inn and let me do the rest of my shopping on my own."

Maize calmly returned her determined gaze with one of amusement. She spotted something as she looked discreetly over his shoulder and she was glad for once that they were around.

"Just a moment," She moved past him without a word and approached the beautiful lady who had been eyeing him just moments ago. The lady was surprised when Liquorice had approached her, but her surprise soon gave way to delight after they had conversed.

Liquorice returned to where Maize was standing, looking slightly confused. Liquorice and the pretty lady stood side by side.

"This is Elice – you're going on a date with her." She announced.

Maize looked incredulous.

"I've made a friend. Please take care of her while I finish the rest of my shopping," she said with a mock innocent smile.

He let out a hearty laugh and smiled at the both of them. Afterwards, he added an exasperated sigh, "Understood," He gave Liquorice a look that said 'I'll oblige you for now'. "Please enjoy your shopping, my Lady. I shall bring your purchases to your room before I attend to Miss Elice." Maize bowed down respectfully, the same way an esteemed servant would bow down to his master. This time it was Liquorice who was left confused. Maize approached Elice and prompted the both of them to take their leave.

Maize glanced back and gave a knowing smile.

Liquorice let out a small sigh. She noticed that the movement he had performed was too natural to have been done in a spur of the moment. He had likely done it any times before. It was her hint to a glimpse of his past. She did not want to pry, but she could not help observing and making hypotheses.

He was such a strange person after all. That was the conclusion she had arrived at.

**-oOo-**

"Why? Did you sleep with me back then just because you felt like it?" a woman's voice resounded indignantly.

"You're noisy, woman." A familiar voice said nearby from where Liquorice was seated.

She had been minding her own business until this had sprung up.

The male voice was laced with annoyance. "Go away. We have no business with each other."

"Were they all lies then? All of the things you told me when...when we spent the night together?"

There was a loud sigh. "What do you want me to say?"

"When you said those things to me – I know you weren't lying."

"What are you trying to say? Quit going around in circles and just spit it out," he said gruffly. Liquorice heard the snapping of a twig underfoot.

"Do you love me?" the woman's voice was trembling slightly. "Because if you do I –" her next words were quickly cut off by the voice Liquorice knew.

"I don't," he said flatly. "Did you think I was serious? Did you think I fell in love with you at first sight? Why would I fall in love with a woman who is unfaithful to her husband and is so easily swayed in her affections?" there was clear disgust in his voice.

"I... I only –"

"Fell completely into the temptation of a stranger. You don't know me, I don't know you. It's better if it stays that way. You should find some other unsuspecting male to satisfy your sexual needs. You can't satisfy me and I don't want you. I'm sure the brothels around here would be more accommodating." He practically spat the words and Liquorice felt sympathy for the woman at the receiving end of that tirade.

There was a loud sound that followed. The sound of flesh against flesh.

"How...how dare you!"

"We have nothing left to discuss," he said dryly. "If you don't leave now – I'll have to resort to force, woman. Don't test my patience."

There was another loud sound. "I hope you go to hell," the woman hissed. It was followed by the sound of fleeing steps.

When the woman had completely disappeared, the tanned blue-haired boy turned around and closed his eyes. It was almost completely dark now but Liquorice could still make out his face somewhat. She noted the page she was reading before she quietly shut the book in her hands.

Liquorice heard Zaffre cuss under his breath. "It really stings," he said as he gingerly touched his left cheek with his left hand.

"We could put ice on it to lessen the pain," Liquorice said loud enough for him to hear. His eyes snapped open immediately and he looked around slowly until he spotted the outline of her figure on the bench.

"Who are you?"

"I'm sorry for startling you," she apologized. "It's me, Liquorice."

His tense posture visibly relaxed. "Liquorice?"

"Yes," she stood up and approached him, close enough that he could recognize her despite the limited visibility. They only had the light from the nearby temple to go by and Liquorice could only barely make out his face.

His left cheek was red and it seemed to have scratches that were bleeding slightly. The woman had slapped him twice after all.

"...how long have you been there?"

She was thinking whether she could still lie her way through it, but she had a feeling Zaffre would see right through her.

"I was here even before you and the lady arrived."

Zaffre clicked his tongue, "You heard everything, huh?"

"Yes," Liquorice admitted softly. She was looking up at him now, trying to figure out what sort of expression he was wearing right now.

"You must think I'm a bastard, right now," he said in a knowing tone. He sounded tired.

"Not particularly." She replied vaguely.

He gave a dry laugh.

"Why?" Liquorice asked gently.

"Hn?"

"If you knew she had a husband, why did you sleep with her?"

Zaffre scratched the back of his head. "Because she offered," he answered nonchalantly.

"Is that all it takes? For a woman to get you into a bed?"

"What do _you_ think?" he asked pointedly.

"I think you're still hiding something." She replied honestly. "Were you drunk when she offered?"

There was a beat of silence.

"...Yeah." Zaffre admitted.

"Was she your type?"

He laughed sarcastically. "To me all women are the same."

"But you do have preferences, am I correct?"

"You sound a lot like, Carmine. Did you know that? He'd interrogate me the same way if he found out about what just happened." He squared his shoulders, looking a little apprehensive.

"I take it you want to keep this a secret from everyone?"

He gave her a measuring look, "Yeah, I guess."

"Alright. Are you skilled at lying?"

"Are you suggesting that we lie to them?" his voice sounded amused.

"Do you have any other suggestion on how to explain those scratches of yours? Let's go with this. You found me carrying a cat I was playing with. We stopped and chatted, I asked you to hold the cat as I remembered something. The cat didn't like you and scratched you then ran away. What do you think?" her voice was sensible as she relayed her version of the story.

"That...actually sounds plausible."

"Then we'll go with that. Let's go find some ice to tone down the redness and to prevent swelling." She went back to the bench and retrieved the other items she had purchased.

"In exchange however for helping you, you have to answer one question for me honestly. Don't worry, it isn't a difficult question to answer." She reassured him. Zaffre reached out and took her items from her hands, without warning. He walked forward for a few steps before he turned back.

"Alright. Shoot."

"What is your ideal woman?" Liquorice asked curiously. He had not answered her previous question but he had no choice this time.

Zaffre snorted, "My ideal woman doesn't exist," he answered steadfastly. He turned and began walking again. Liquorice moved to catch up to him and she was granted with an addition to his previous answer. It was faint though, as if he had not meant to say it at all.

"Not anymore."

Liquorice was satisfied with that and she walked into step with Zaffre. They walked quietly; the only sound was the soft crunch of her package in his large hands.

Zaffre was easier to understand compared to Maize – but she had still not completely grasped his character either.

**-oOo-**

Breakfast the next day was quite a spectacle.

It had been a long time since she had been surrounded by so many people. To be exact, it had been a long time since she had willingly let herself be surrounded by a notable number of people. She watched all of them with rapt attention, simultaneously lessening her presence as well. At least, that was what she had hoped to do.

It was almost impossible – being surrounded by such eye-catching companions. They seemed to be attracting the eyes of most of the females present in the salon of the inn they were currently lodging at.

Liquorice watched the girls' crowd around the Maize giggling ceaselessly. On the other hand, there seemed to be no end to the girls who were occupying Zaffre's lap. More ladies were gushing over Thistle, giving him food after food and playing with his somewhat long hair. Even Harlequin, who wore a distinct frown, had a noticeable number of women vying for his attention. Liquorice was quite sure he would lose his temper in the immediate future. Carmine as well, was occupied, chatting politely with ladies who were steadily increasing in number.

No one approached her; the women generally ignored her or could not see her at all. A few times, a guy would bravely try to approach her – but one look from all five of her companions would force him to turn around and never look back. She watched all of them with interest and tried to put to memory their little habits.

The way Maize always gave a discreet smile whenever he managed to make another girl blush. The way Zaffre only seemed to pick long-haired buxom girls. The way Thistle always took large bites and only chewed two to three times. The way Harlequin pushed up his spectacles when he was trying to calm himself down. Even the way Carmine never really smiled at any of the women around him, his mouth had been smiling but his eyes definitely were not.

They seemed like normal males on the outside but Liquorice knew they each carried some sort of secret. Why else would they be associated with people like her and Carmine who carried a brand on their body?

Surrounded by these people, she felt strangely comforted and secure. She had not felt like that in such a long time – not since she had lost her Master. Was it really alright for her to remain here?

Could she really...stay here?

Carmine had told her that he wanted her to join them. But if they took her in – they would take in her baggage as well. Her burden wasn't something so simple. If she joined them... she would have to tell them. She knew Carmine was only resting longer than usual in this village for the sake of waiting for her decision.

She quite liked them.

And because she liked them – she didn't want to bring trouble to them.

"Liquorice," she heard someone call her name. She raised her head to determine who it was. The only one among the other five who was looking at her was Carmine. The ladies he had been entertaining had suddenly disappeared.

"Have you finished eating?" he inquired politely.

She glanced at her half-full plate and looked apologetically at Carmine. "I'm sorry. I can't seem to finish all of it."

He smiled reassuringly, "That's quite alright. Would you like to go for a walk with me to let your stomach settle down?"

It was sudden – but she had no reason to decline his offer. She accepted with a nod.

They excused themselves and left the inn. They walked for a minutes and Liquorice waited patiently. She knew Carmine invited her for a walk for a reason. He was the type who didn't do unnecessary things.

As they walked, Liquorice assessed Carmine in the corner of her eye. Carmine wasn't small, by any means. He was still taller than her by quite a stretch – but compared to the others like Thistle and Harlequin, he was the shortest. He wasn't as muscled and strongly built as the others but was quite slender. What exactly did he possess, that allowed him to function as the leader of such strong-minded people? He had charisma, without a doubt, but there must be something else.

When he finally spoke, she had almost not heard it because she had been so absorbed in her ponderings.

"You don't need to rush," he said once they were a considerable distance from the inn. The two of them walked side by side with only a foot between them. "We usually stay in a village for a week before we proceed to the next. I will not prolong our stay here beyond that. I hope you could give me your decision by then."

He had seen through her thoughts completely. That was why he had invited her for a walk – to alleviate her of the pressure she was feeling.

How could he understand her so perfectly?

Her master had praised her once, saying that she had the perfect poker face; it was almost impossible to determine what she was thinking. She had been confident about that fact – until she had met this man.

They continued walking at a leisure pace. This time, it was Carmine's turn to wait for her to speak.

"May I ask you a question?" she asked softly after a few minutes of silence. She needed his answer to this question by all means.

"If it is something I am capable of answering."

"Why do you want me to join your group?"

"Because you carry the same_ burden_ as us – I feel that you are necessary for our goal to succeed."

"Goal?" she said inquisitively.

He smiled ruefully, "Forgive me. I cannot disclose to you all the details until I am sure that you are ready to be a part of the group. Know this however; I truly believe that you belong with us – that you are one of us." His voice was sure.

Carmine stopped once they had reached the other end of the village. The place where they were standing was already very close to the road to the next village.

"I –" she wanted to say something, but she wasn't quite sure what.

Carmine reached out and grasped a few strands of her hair in his hand.

"Your burden – all these shackles that are weighing down on you," His gaze had been lowered to her hair in between his fingers but in the next moment, his eyes met her own from below his eyelashes. "Let me break all of them." His voice was low but it rang clearly in her ears.

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

**Endnote:** Felt happy, got into the mood to type and this is what you got. Ha ha ha! I had a lot of fun typing this. (Mainly because I got to squeeze in a little Akashi love in there. :D) I hoped you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to drop a review on what you thought of the chapter, it would make me really happy to hear your thoughts as well. :)

**Reviewer notes:** (You don't need to read it if you didn't review the previous chapter)

**Gentle Snow:** The reviewee who pointed out the Akashi in one sentence in the previous chapter, I give a sincere thank you. The scenarios always play out in my head and I unconsciously typed out Akashi when I imagined him talking in my mind. Thanks for pointing it out to me! ;D

**RubyAngelFire**: I already thought about the medieval talk before I started this fic. I was debating if I was going to adjust the speech to the atmosphere and timeline but then, you know, when I pictured the scene playing in my mind (As I always do when I type) – it just felt wrong for them to medieval-speak. Like it wouldn't be Murasakibara if he didn't use –chin or Kise talking medieval didn't appeal to me very much. I imagine him to be a yellow monkey trying to speak medieval and it just felt... wrong. So yeah, I decided against it and kept it to slightly formal and occasional informal speech instead. :) Thanks for reviewing by the way!

**More important Notes**:

*_Ignis_ is a term used to refer to flame in one of the videogames I played before. Guess what colors are in a flame? Blue, yellow and red. And it's a gas as well, difficult to grasp – like what my darling Kuro-chin was thinking with the others. :) That's why it's the title.


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